


Hair Troubles

by TurntechLoveThis (angelcult)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Adopted Dave Strider, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider is a Good Parent, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider, Slice of Life, Wholesome Striders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25486354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/TurntechLoveThis
Summary: Bro found him, he found him and he knew that Dave was his little piece of happiness and he knew that he would always do good by him, even when things get a little hard.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Hair Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a conversation with a friend and it was supposed to be pretty short but the idea just ran wild, please enjoy!

Being a single parent is hard,  _ especially  _ when the kid wasn’t really his to start with.

Bro doesn’t mind it through, the little toddler brings a smile to his face, he’s Bro’s little reminder that sometimes the world can give you amazing things.

He found Dave in a dumpster behind the record store he used to frequent, the poor thing sounded like he’d been crying for hours.

He’d stopped the moment Bro had picked him up, looking at him with big red eyes. He’d tucked him into his jacket and then walked to the hospital, his truck was unreliable and broke down constantly back then.

And he was scared to drive with a lurching car and such a fragile little human in his arms. 

He was glad that the nearest hospital was twenty minutes away, and the soothing motion of his walking had put Dave to sleep in only ten.

Bro still remembers the shocked look on the receptionist’s face when Bro opened his jacket to reveal a preemie baby that somehow survived in a dumpster in the middle of a Texan winter.

A little dehydrated and malnourished, but otherwise fine.

He’d be clingy, he was assured by doctors, but Bro found that he didn’t mind.

Dave was his little piece of light, his bright white hair a signifier of this.

  
  


Bro didn’t really mind the differences between him and Dave, though, as he grew older, he found himself facing a situation he didn’t quite know how to solve.

Dave’s hair.

It was white and thick, it grew in wild curls that often tangled together tightly and he couldn’t just comb it without hurting him.

So, he cut it.

At least when he was younger, as Dave grew older with his own preferences, he was glad to see that he  _ liked  _ his hair.

He ran his fingers through it and pulled out tangles, he washed it and marveled at how the curls would bounce and hang, heavy with water.

Around the age of seven, Bro found himself having a rather interesting conversation with Dave.

They were on the futon, also known as Bro’s bed, when he scooted closer and touched Bro’s hair.

His fingers slid through the strawberry blond strands effortlessly, and Bro hummed in question when the boy did it a few times. 

“Dave?”

“Why isn’t your hair like mine?” He was never shy to ask Bro things, and the man frowned slightly as he considered.

“Because we’re different races, see?” He gently grabbed Dave’s hand and allowed him to compare.

Dave’s eyes shifted between Bro’s pale and freckled skin to his own brown skin. 

He allowed Dave to reach up and trace over Bro’s nose, it was straight and slightly upturned compared to Dave’s own nose, wider and flatter.

“Oh.”

“You’re still my little bro, though, okay? Don’t let anyone tell you different.” 

Dave nodded and smiled, ruffling his own hair with one hand, sending the wild curls everywhere before leaning into Bro’s arm.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

  
  
  


“Ow-  _ ow, Bro, ow- _ “

Bro cringed and put the comb down, watching the dissatisfied and somewhat pained look of his now twelve year old brother and kind of-son staring back at him in the mirror.

“We have a brush?” Bro tried, handing Dave a brush.

He brushed over his hair and after a few tries, slammed it down on the counter, jumping as he did so, unaware of the force he’d been putting behind it.

“It’s too soft.”

“Soft?”

“Yeah, the bristles.. Ugh, fucking hate this.”

For the first time, Bro saw Dave’s dissatisfaction with himself, a spark of self-depreciation, and he hated it.

“Don’t worry, little man, we’ll buy some brushes and other stuff more suited for your hair.” He patted his shoulder and tried to smile but Dave just nodded.

Bro tried not to worry too much.

  
  
  


“Suspended? For what?” Bro said over the phone, watching Dave fidget in his seat.

“Okay, yes, I’ll be free.” He hung up the phone and looked at Dave, who seemed to be fighting off tears.

Bro took his shades off and sat down next to him.

“I’m not mad, I just want to know what happened. They set up a conference for us and the other parent and kid next week.”

Dave rubbed at his eyes and Bro could tell that he’d been crying earlier, the white of his eyes were red.

“The kids were calling me names and.. and I don’t know, I just got mad so I punched him in the mouth and-I’m sorry, Bro, I know you want me to go to school and everything but I just-“ Dave dissolved into tears and Bro pulled him into a hug, rocking him from side to side.

He hadn’t known that Dave was being bullied, and that made guilt eat at him. 

“What did he call you?”

Dave just shook his head, words muffled as he spoke into Bro’s shirt.

“I don’t want to say it.”

Bro hugged him tighter, rubbing his hand up and down his back.

He didn’t need to say it, Bro understood.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay. What happened to the kid?”

“He got two weeks detention.”

Bro’s hand stopped mid-rub and Dave tensed up slightly.

“Bro?”

“It’s okay, little man, we’ll handle it.”

Dave just nodded and Bro exhaled slowly. It was a fantasy world for him to want to see Dave never experience something like this, even after it was told to him in so few words.

He understood, but he wished he didn’t.

  
  


The principal wasn’t on Dave’s side from the moment they stepped into the room. His eyebrows did raise slightly in shock though once he saw Bro, however.

“Mr. Strider?”

“That’ll be me, sir. It’s nice to meet ya.” He nodded at him and took his seat, Dave sitting beside him. 

The other kid was one that Bro pegged as a brat on sight.

His mother was with him.

The conversation started out as civil as it could get with the boys retelling their accounts of what happened.

“So, here’s m’ query wit’ all of this.” Bro said, sitting almost carelessly in his chair. “My kid gets called slurs and he’s suspended for defendin’ himself?”

“Well,” the principal started, and Bro raised an eyebrow. “We believe that Dave’s way of retaliating with an unnecessary show of  _ aggression  _ towards his classmate and we cannot allow such violence on campus.”

Bro sat up in his seat and Dave’ eyes widened a little behind his shades. From the angle he was sitting at, he could see behind Bro’s shades. 

He’d never seen Bro’s eyes so angry.

“No, I think he retaliated just like he should have. Dave’s a real sweet and well-meaning kid, he came here to get an education, not be harassed. Quite frankly, I’m pretty, and pardon my language, damn pissed that this is even something that needs to be said.”

“I understand your frustration Mr. Strider, but if you believe that Dave is being.. discriminated against, why wouldn’t he tell us this himself?”

“He did,” Bro gritted out, “but  _ you  _ and the rest of your staff chose to ignore this and punish him for not letting himself get walked all over.”

“I-“

Bro cut the man off, standing up and Dave fumbled to follow suit.

“I see where the rest of this discussion is headed, and frankly, sir, I don’t think you want to say whatever privileged shit you’re about to. Thanks for the meeting, we’ll be on our way.”

Dave had to walk quickly to keep up with Bro, staying quiet beside him until they climbed into the truck.

“You okay, kiddo?”

Dave nodded, pushing an errant curl behind his ear before looking back at Bro.

“Are you mad?”

Bro sighed and nodded, reaching over to run a hand through Dave’s hair, fingers getting caught in a few light tangles.

“Yeah, but I’m not mad at you. You did what you should have.”

Dave didn’t say anything, and they drove back home in silence, Bro could feel the divide between them starting to form, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

He didn’t know if he  _ could  _ stop it. 

  
  


Dave switched schools, and Bro could tell that he didn’t like it. There were no more incidents, however, or rather, none that he  _ heard of. _

  
  
  


Dave is thirteen and thirteen year olds are curious about everything- themselves, most of all.

They’re at the clothing store and Bro’s pretty sure that Dave’s eyes have been following the same skirt since they walked in.

“You can get it if you want.” Bro extends the offer and Dave jumps, looks around to see if anyone else noticed before looking at Bro.

“Get what?” He even sounded guilty and Bro frowned to himself.

“The skirt, if you want it.” It seems that Dave’s realized that Bro is tall enough to see over his shades.

“You aren’t… mad, or whatever?”

“Nope. Had a friend who used me as a lipstick model when we were younger, pretty nice to wear.”

Dave blinked tears out of his eyes and nodded, unable to stop the smile that grew across his face.

“Thanks, Bro.”

Dave was jittery during the entire checkout process and although he was quiet, Bro could see the excitement.

Dave darted into his room the moment they crossed the threshold into the apartment, bags in hand, and Bro could only smile, it feels like he hasn’t seen Dave that excited about something in a long time. 

  
  


It was a jean skirt, pleated with frayed ends. It stopped midway down his thighs and he turned this way and that to look it over in his bedroom mirror.

He tugged it down a little, to his hips, and laughed to himself with exhilaration. 

A perfect fit, he twirled around it in and grabbed his camera to take pictures. 

He couldn’t wait to show John.

  
  


They’re at the salon, because Bro was sure that if he’d gone to a barber shop, they’d offer to cut Dave’s errant curls and tangles, which neither wanted.

The ladies loved him, cooing over his hair and the texture of it.

“Oh, honey, what have you been using in your hair?” 

Dave shrugged and made a noise of embarrassment.

“Uh, nothing? Really?”

The hairdresser tutted, turning Dave’s head from side to side lightly before grabbing a brush with points instead of typical bristles.

She grabbed a small spray bottle and spritzed it over Dave’s hair, following it through with the brush. He flinched every now and again when a tangle was encountered but eventually, the brush was able to go through smoothly.

“There, come on, I’m going to wash his hair now, okay?” She called back to Bro who nodded.

The salon was relatively empty and the moment Dave was gone, one of the other hairdressers turned towards him.

“So, that's your baby?” She asked, nodding to the other room that Dave went into and he nodded.

“Yeah, that’s my boy.” One of the women sat in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Does he take after his mother? He’s got all your mannerisms.” Bro’s eyebrows raised over his shades and he shook his head, just slightly.

“He’s adopted, I’m raising him on my own.”

“Well, aren’t you something. You’ve raised a good kid.”

Bro smiled before he could stop himself, his pride gleaming through and the women laughed, in a way that was so open and kind; it was strangely motherly.

It reminded him of his friend Roxy.

Dave left with an armful of hair products, Bro having bought all of the ones recommended to him.

Dave’s hair was curly in a way that was still unruly but it shined and bounced with every step, long enough to touch his shoulders.

He could tell Dave liked it more than anything, or perhaps it was the kindness that had been shown to him. 

The woman had left him her card, her name was Kanaya and he was sure she’d be getting a call from him if Dave ever wanted his hair professionally done again. 

  
  


“They gave me a bonnet.”

Bro raised an eyebrow at his statement. “So wear it?”

Dave gave him a drawl look as he walked over to the futon and hopped up next to Bro, legs swinging where they were too short to reach the floor.

“What if it comes off while I’m sleeping?”

Bro didn’t ruffle Dave’s hair like he usually would, not when he was fussing over it  _ already.  _

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, just give it a try.”

Dave shrugged and nodded, spinning the silk bonnet around his finger.

It flew off across the room and he winced, looking back at Bro who was covering his mouth like he was trying not to laugh.

“Good job, Dave.” He said instead, sarcastically, and watched Dave grumble as he climbed off the futon to retrieve it from wherever it had landed.

He came back over and sat next to Bro before putting it on and pursing his lips.

“This feels weird. I feel like someone’s mom.” Bro laughed at the boy’s words and after a second, Dave started to laugh too, as if he was suddenly realising what he’d said.

Bro thinks the divide is starting to lessen.

  
  


Dave meets Roxy in a sort of weird way. 

They’re at the store and Bro still doesn’t know how to shop, he just picks up things and adds them to the cart (money isn’t an issue when he rakes in cash with his smuppet business) and Dave basically does the same.

Dave trips, a clumsiness that Bro knows he  _ surely  _ didn’t get from him, and falls, barely catching himself with his hands right in front of a woman Bro hasn’t seen for years.

“Roxy?”

Pink eyes meet his and a smile blossoms across her face, she never did stop being beautiful.

“Dirk!” She’s helping Dave up as she speaks, guiding him to his feet and back to Bro, though now he just looks more and more confused.

He’s never seen this woman before, she’s tall with dark skin and the wildest curls he’s ever seen, they’re dyed pink, they match her eyes and her acrylic nails and her lipstick.

Bro hugs her tight and kisses her cheek and he’s saying “I thought you lived in New York?”

“I do! I’m down here for some business, only for a few days though, but Dirk,” She looks at Dave and her eyes damn near sparkle. “Who’s this?”

Dave can see the pride that lights up in Bro’s eyes and it warms him in a familiar way that never grows old. His brother never hesitates to tell Dave that he’s his pride and joy, and he knows that the words aren’t empty.

“This is my li’l bro, Dave.” He ushers Dave forward a little towards Roxy and she smiles, like she loves him already.

“Kids? Wow, we’re old, aren’t we, Dirky?”

“You bet, Lalonde.”

Dave’s racing mind skids to a stop.

“Lalonde, as in like, Rose Lalonde?”

Roxy and Bro look at each other, to Dave, and then back at each other before laughing.

“Oh my god, it makes so much sense now.”

“I guess it only makes sense that our kids know each other. We used to be attached at the hip when we were your age, Dave. Me, Dirk and our friend, Jake English-“

“John’s  _ cousin?” _

Bro will never forget the look of “my life is crumbling” that he saw on Dave’s usually expressionless face, shades and all. 

“Sooo,” They’re walking now, side-by-side and in sync in a way that speaks of years upon years of walking that way, a deep-set familiarity that comes with friendship. 

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

Bro hums and shakes his head and Roxy’s brow furrows.

“No lucky guy, just me and Dave.”

“Ah, shit.. You too, huh? Rose’s dad died a few months after she was born, it’s just been me and her.”

They’re speaking low enough to not be heard by strangers, but Dave can still catch their conversation from where he walks alongside Bro.

“God, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t known, I would have tried to make it up there.”

“It’s okay, Dirk. How’d you end up with Dave?”

“I found him.” Dave knew this much, at the very least, about how he ended up in Bro’s care.

“Walked him to the hospital and ended up having to fight to make sure he didn’t fall into the system, and I’m so damn glad I did, Roxy, that kid means the world to me.”

Roxy smiles and pats him on the back.

“He’s changed you.”

“What?”

“The Dirk I knew then wasn’t anything like you are now. You’re happy, he makes you happy.”

“I was happy.”

“You weren’t happy, you were  _ living.  _ Going through the motions and working yourself to death. I know that the situation wasn’t ideal, I know that everything was unplanned but I’m happy you fought for Dave.”

Bro goes quiet, and nods, and when he speaks, his voice is raw with emotion.

“Thank you.”

  
  


They’re sitting at the dinner table, it only has two chairs because it’s only ever been the two of them, and Bro can tell that Dave has a question.

His eyebrows are knitted together and he’s awful focused on his spaghetti and meatballs.

Bro gives it a few seconds. 

“You’re gay?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

A few more seconds of silence.

“I think I’m pansexual.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He’s nervous, there’s a shake in his voice. Bro smiles to ease him before speaking.

“Well, I hope you figure it out, Dave, I’ll love you regardless of who  _ you  _ love.”

Bro can see the relief in the slump of his shoulders and the way he exhales, relieved, scared.

They finish dinner in a comfortable silence.

  
  


Dave’s crying in the bathroom and the door is locked and Bro is having a hard time distinguishing Dave from himself.

He did the same thing at his age, except when he did it, he wanted to die, and  _ god,  _ he hopes that Dave doesn’t want to do the same.

“Dave?”

“Go away!”

Bro is scared that if he leaves, he won’t have a brother to come back to. He sits next to the door and he waits, and his heart pounds in his chest when he can’t hear anything from within.

He waits for an hour and a half before the door opens again, and Dave shuffles out, looking worse for the wear, but alive.

“Dave?”

He shakes his head and sits across from Bro, he isn’t wearing his shades, and Bro appropriately slides off his own. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Was I a mistake? To you?”

Bro feels like his world is crumbling.

“No, Dave-“

“Because I feel like some fucking show pony to you. ‘Hey, here’s Dave! The little kid I saved from freezing to death in a dumpster because he was an accident and everyone heard him crying but no one helped!’ and I-I just fucking- I feel like everything’s crashing and one day I’m going to be gunned down or murdered or-or like I’m out of time, am I out of time?”

Ever since Dave was a baby, he’s had this fascination with clocks and time, but never such a severe discomfort such as this.

“Dave.. I never meant to make you feel like that. I talk about you because I’m proud of you and everything you’ve done, and believe it or not, that will never change. If you want me to stop talking about it, I will.”

“I do. I never want you to talk about it again.”

“I won’t.”

Dave nods and pulls his knees to his chest, eyes downcast.

“I’m sorry I yelled.”

“Dave,” Red eyes hesitantly meet his own. “Don’t you ever apologize for expressing how you feel, okay? If that’s how you feel, tell me, you will never be in any sort of trouble for that.”

Dave nods again, and he’s wiping at his eyes.

“I want to go to therapy. I think-I think I need to talk to someone who isn’t you,” and it hurts to hear, it hurts in a way that Bro can’t explain.

“I feel all trashed up inside,  _ all the time,  _ and it never stops or goes away.”

Bro is not his parents, they grew up in a part of Houston that wasn’t good, but wasn’t bad either, it was bland in a painful way that hollowed Bro out inside.

He won’t let the same thing happen to Dave.

“We will. Thank you for-for talking to me. Come here.” He opened his arms and Dave practically threw himself into them, and he’s barely holding himself together, but that divide between them finally feels like it’s gone now. 

He can’t understand him, not entirely, and he knows that he wasn’t meant to, but Dave is _ still,  _ and will always be, his brother and his sort-of son.

And he knows that this story was never about him.

It was always Dave’s.

Dave and his unruly hair and his dark skin and the small gap between his two front teeth.

Dave and his supernatural connection with time and his shades and his red hoodie that he’s rarely seen without.

Dave and his trashed up heart and his unconditionally loving soul and his aversion to hurting others and his willingness to put himself beneath the blade to protect everyone else but himself.

Dave and his brother, with strawberry-blond hair and freckles and skin that burns so much easier in the sun and his straight nose.

It was always his.

And it always will be. 

  
  



End file.
